


White Camellia

by duckiesandlemons



Series: Spirit AU [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Spirit AU, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, and super sappy and bittersweet, floral language ahoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckiesandlemons/pseuds/duckiesandlemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was during the autumn, when the weather turned crisp and the chrysanthemums graced the land with their presence, that Seijuurou ends up mourning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Camellia

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for: character death, vague language, a sort of experimental style, un-beta'd, and flower speak. And I mean a LOT of flower speak. Also there might be some inaccuracies I'm so sorry I tried orz
> 
> Flowers and their meanings at end of story

 

 

_“Before the white chrysanthemum  
the scissors hesitate  
a moment"_

_-Yosa Buson_

It was during autumn, when the leaves turned and the chrysanthemums showed their blooms.  Each one, placed with delicate care, surround his pale face.  What had once been vibrant with color, with love for his people, had now been reduced to a spirit barely close to what he once was.  There, surrounded by the blooming red of chrysanthemums, did the one Seijuurou truly brought himself to love tarnished.  It was during the autumn, when the weather turned crisp and the chrysanthemums graced the land with their presence, that Seijuurou ends up mourning.

_“Red always suited you best, ‘s why I got these for you.”_

_“You are uncharacteristically sweet.  This kind of gesture doesn’t suit you.”_

_“You’d prefer it if I just straight up kissed you?  No warning before hand?  It’d make you awfully mad—you once told me to handle these things with class.”_

_“I wasn’t expecting much, if you want me to be honest.”_

But then he had taken the red chrysanthemum handed to him with a fondness he reserved for precious few and tucked it behind his ear.  Let the red of the petals press delicately to the skin of his forehead, tickling up against the base of his horns, and his lover had smiled; brilliant, powerful, a light that Seijuurou had come to enjoy.  This was something he would never want to lose, he had thought.  Silver eyes were filled with mirth and here had Seijuurou thought back to when his marriage to this deity, this powerful spirit, had been announced that he thought he would be forgotten.  A dragon of a failing realm, passed on to another in hopes the burden would lighten.  He had expected to be treated coldly, instead he had been greeted warmly.

_“Shuuzou, why did you accept me?  A river dragon from a dying land seems hardly worth your time.”_

_“Are we at this again?”_

_“If I remember, you were offered the daughter of a spirit much stronger than my father.”_

_“If you really want to know—well, it’s a secret.  Now come, we have an audience.”_

_“…insufferable.”_

Yet it is that which makes you like me, the words came back easily.  As if the other, as if Shuuzou, is still there beside him with his hands tucked into his sleeves.  Had Seijuurou not doubted Shuuzou’s decisions so much, then perhaps the world would have taken a different turn.  A spirit like Shuuzou was kept in power by the belief of others in them, and Seijuurou always wondered that if he had not doubted Shuuzou’s adoration (for he knew of it with how many times Shuuzou had gifted him with red camellia, lovingly tucked behind his ear because some days it was the only way Shuuzou knew how to show his love) would the other still by his side albeit weak? 

These questions had always haunted him, always chased him; left him to wake restless in the dark with his hands clutching the sheets and his head turning to see no one there.

Seijuurou always thinks back—it was the end of autumn, when the air stung and the chrysanthemums slowly died, that Shuuzou had left him.  When the weather’s turn had taken the last of Shuuzou’s believers and in turn had saddled Seijuurou with the duties of caring for Shuuzou’s realm.  Surrounding Shuuzou’s body, placed with delicacy, did the white chrysanthemums show their face.  The white petals blended with the sickly pallor of his skin and there did Seijuurou mourn.

_“You’re wearing blue today?”_

_“My wardrobe is not as singular as you think.”_

_“…it’s to match the flowers in your hair this time.  Ha!  Who would have taken you as a flower kind of guy?”_

_“The one who puts them in my hair every chance he gets.”_

_“Guilty, guilty.  But the color is nice…and the flower.”_

_“It only shows how I feel.”_

It had only been because of Shuuzou that Seijuurou started the habit of tucking flowers behind his ear, choosing each one with great care.  Their meanings were his own return of affection, to show what he felt embarrassed to say in return.  Much like how Shuuzou told his love in flowers Seijuurou strived to do the same.  Embarrassment had always played a big role in it, the struggle to say what they felt should be kept to themselves, but it had always been flowers.  It was how at the beginning Shuuzou was able to speak to him, it was how at the beginning Seijuurou was able to open up.  Each flower, each word, they were important.  What they kept hidden they showed through flowers.

It had been because of that that Seijuurou had started cutting off one white chrysanthemum, tucking it behind his ear.  The white petals would press against the skin of his temple, brushed against the base of his horns, and he would wear it on that day.  Every year, when it was the end of autumn and the chrysanthemums shied away, he would wear that white chrysanthemum and carry on the duties Shuuzou had left behind.

_“Orange would work better.”_

_“Orange?  I know that for a tengu you are quite dumb but orange for chrysanthemums mean—“_

_“Not chrysanthemums, orange lilies.  Cause ya know, you hate humans so much.”_

_“…hate is hardly the appropriate words for it.”_

_“Hate, dislike, same thing different inflections I get ya.  But ya know, I just think it’d show you better since that’s what you really feel but you don’t want to hurt the humans.  Since Shuuzou loved ‘em and all.”_

_“Has being around Tetsuya finally brought some sense to your head?”_

_“Naw, it’s just you can only wear white for so long.”_

Seijuurou sighs and shakes his head.  That conversation had been just a few months ago.  There is no time to think on it, much as there is no time to think on Shuuzou’s passing.  The pain had faded away and while Seijuurou does not trust humans, he no longer views them as vile anymore either.  Long gone are his days of hatred, now there is only an indifference.  He picks up his scissors, preparing to clip off the bloom of one white chrysanthemum, when a servant comes to inform him that he has a visitor.  “It is Lord Tetsuya,” the spirit says, “he apologizes for coming early, and says to take your time.”

“It is rude to keep one waiting, tell him I will be there soon,” and he places his scissors down.  It is true that he had asked to see the boy early, but he had not expected him to come when not even Daiki would approach at this hour.  Tetsuya is standing outside, like always, staring at the pillars and the closed morning glories. 

“Ah, Lord Seijuurou,” Tetsuya bows (such a respectful human—perhaps he is also a reason for Seijuurou’s slow change).  “I apologize for coming early.  It is just that I—“

“Don’t worry, I am not angered at all, in fact I am impressed.  Braving the cold when you could be like Daiki.”

“Lord Daiki is hardly the type I want to emulate,” the blunt honesty makes Seijuurou’s mouth curve up slightly. 

“Quite true.”

Tetsuya himself allows a small smile before he speaks again, “You called me here for something, though.  I stayed up late attempting to think what a powerful dragon as yourself would want.”  Seijuurou wonders himself as well.  This meeting, if he were to be perfectly honest, was a whim.  Something that he wanted because Tetsuya intrigued him but because he also felt something else.  Something that he had missed.

“Is talking such a horrible request?” he asks instead. 

“…no.”

“I’d like to know more about you, Tetsuya.  How you have lived, how you are living—curiosity from the lord of the realm since you are the sole human who can see us.”

It’s easy to feign his curiosity as just him looking out for the realm.  Tetsuya buys it as well, looking down at his feet.  “I…can see where it would be hard to trust me,” he looks up again.  “But is it alright if in return I ask about you?”

The dragon just tilts his head, “I see no harm in that, although may I ask why?”

“Because…Lord Seijuurou seems sad.”

_“Hey, what’s with the frown.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“You know what I’m talking about.  You’ve been sulking the past few days.”_

_“I have not.”_

_“Then look me in the eyes—talk to me, Seijuurou.  Not as your husband, but as your equal.  I want to know.”_

Seijuurou dismisses the thoughts.  How easily Tetsuya is able to see through him, just like Shuuzou had been able to.  This must be one of the reasons Seijuurou’s taken interest, these similarities, but he brushes it aside.  Attachment to a human is only more trouble after all.  “You ask as if you want to help me,” he says. 

Tetsuya’s eyes are steel, conviction firm.  Seijuurou sees it with how the human doesn’t seem as meek in his presence, how he straightens his shoulders and lifts his head.  “I do,” Tetsuya answers.  “I do want to help you.”  Each word is strong, a powerful force, and Seijuurou thinks back to when he was first introduced to Shuuzou.  The parallels should be non-existent, not there, but they stand out in such a harsh contrast to the calm that Tetsuya presented. 

“Will you be able to do that?” he asks.  “Help me?”

“I can only try.”

It is there, amidst the vines of the morning glories, that Tetsuya tells him this with such determination that it makes Seijuurou smile.  Anticipatory, different from the ones he had been wearing, no longer harsh and no longer fake, the smile comes in such a way that Seijuurou has to take a moment to compose himself.  “Then I eagerly await your counsel,” he hums.  It is there, during the end of autumn when the leaves drop and the chrysanthemums disappear, that Seijuurou talks with Kuroko Tetsuya.  It is near the beginning of winter, when the skies slowly go grey and few flowers show their blooms, that Seijuurou quietly marks Tetsuya’s words and keeps them to heart.

When Tetsuya leaves and Seijuurou returns to his room does he sit in front of the white chrysanthemums again.  He picks up his scissors and brings them to the delicate stem, ready to cut and then wear the bud as he has done every year since Shuuzou’s death.

 _“I want to help you look back at what makes you sad with a fond smile.  I want you to remember the things that make you smile the best_.”

“Such strong words,” Seijuurou mumbles.  “Such an odd human.”

But he leaves the white chrysanthemums alone and gets up to find the white camellias.

**Author's Note:**

> Hanakotoba is basically the meaning of flowers--but for Japan. Certain flowers in Japan have a different meaning than they do in the west, and so a lot of the flower language used in this is based on their Japanese meaning over the European meaning.
> 
> -White Camellia stands for "Waiting"  
> -Red Chrysanthemum and Red Camellia stands for "in love/affection"  
> -Forget-me-not (the flower that Akashi wore with blue) stands for "true love/everlasting"  
> -Orange Chrysanthemum stands for "Imperial" (although this is pushing it since it's mostly yellow this meaning is associated with, but I haven't found a clear meaning for orange mums--if there is one--so I'm sticking with the yellow mums' meaning)  
> -Orange Lily stands for "hatred/revenge"  
> -Morning Glory stands for "I will keep my promise/willful promises"  
> -White Chrysanthemum stands for "truth/grief"


End file.
